My life would be quite unthinkable without these great works to dip into, to help me make sense of our world and my place in it; and in these worrying times to provide some consolation and understanding as I ponder the dangerous paths that modern mankind is travelling. These works, some of them thousands of years old, are not dusty old fashioned tracts with no relevance for us today. They are timeless, about today and for today; they are the wisdom of thousands of years by the greatest intellects of those centuries and as such, teach us and show us the way forward.
Home Thoughts
Personal perspectives on people, places, passions, and the preoccupations of an eighty something!
26 May, 2025
"After Virtue", Trump's America & The Descent Into Barbarism
My life would be quite unthinkable without these great works to dip into, to help me make sense of our world and my place in it; and in these worrying times to provide some consolation and understanding as I ponder the dangerous paths that modern mankind is travelling. These works, some of them thousands of years old, are not dusty old fashioned tracts with no relevance for us today. They are timeless, about today and for today; they are the wisdom of thousands of years by the greatest intellects of those centuries and as such, teach us and show us the way forward.
11 May, 2025
"Music For a while shall all your cares beguile" (From Henry Purcell's incidental music to the play "Oedipus")
In his welcome to last night’s Ruddington & District Choral Society concert in St Peter’s Church here in Ruddington Musical Director Paul Hayward promised us an evening of joyful music. As a lifelong lover of Baroque music I was anticipating an enjoyable concert but in the event the Choir and the Ruddington Chamber Ensemble delivered not only a wonderfully joyful evening but an exquisite selection of beautifully played and sung early and late baroque gems.
The work is not easy for either singers or players, the weaving melodies requiring both concentration and musicality, but all involved produced an intricate and at times breath taking tapestry. I sat at the back and closed my eyes; it was easy to imagine that I had been transported back in time. Paul Hayward and his players and singers had managed to create for me what I can only call an “authentic” Baroque sound – and in my mind’s eye I was not sat at the back of St Peter’s Church in Ruddington in 2025 but in some grand and gracious Palace surrounded by sword bearing, bewigged gentlemen and bejewelled ladies in their crinolines in late Restoration England; in short, it was magical.
09 May, 2025
A "Fantastic Deal" or Shameful Appeasement?
05 May, 2025
Trump, Farage, Kakistocracies & A Supremely Elegant Letter
Just over 60 years ago, on a late autumn evening, I sat, having eaten my tea at a small card table in the little front room of my parents’ tiny terraced housed in Preston Lancashire. It was a Friday, the weekend beckoned - no more College work for a day or two - but as I sat knife and fork in my hand little did I know that it was to be a Friday I would never forget, one I would still remember in my 80th year. I was 18 years old. The ancient black and white TV in the corner of the room was on and I had before me an empty plate having just eaten the egg and chips that my mother had cooked for my tea. I was half watching the local North West News on the TV whilst at the same time copying up notes from an A level Economics class that I had attended that day at Blackpool Technical College & School of Art, having just started the A level course at the College with the hope that I would get the required qualifications to gain admission to a teacher training college.
I have thought much about that night and those events in the past 48 hours because of recent national and international events and especially because of a book that I have just finished reading – but will read again, and again, and again. The book is called “Letters that Changed the World” by the internationally renowned British historian Simon Sebag Montefiore. The book is a compilation of letters written by prominent people – Kings & Queens, politicians, cultural leaders, soldiers, religious leaders etc – and these letters not only give an insight into the writer, but give a context to the times and events in which the writer lived and in doing so give us an understanding of our world and its and our own history. There are letters written by Henry VIII, Ghandi, Rosa Parks, Nelson Mandela, Mozart, Karl Marx, Mao Zedong, Queen Elizabeth I, Michelangelo, Stalin, Alan Turing, Catherine the Great, the Egyptian Pharoah Rameses the Great, Vita Sackville West, George Bush, Churchill, the Roman Emperor Hadrian, Ada Lovelace, Che Guevara, Abraham Lincoln ……….and many, many more. Each one illuminating, humbling, and marvellously uplifting – and the common thread being that the words of the letter perhaps changed the world. In short, they reflect and explain our shared history.
Neither of these situations mirroring each other across the Atlantic will end well; we have two once great nations increasingly in thrall to the stupid, the misinformed, the ignorant and, if the events at the Washington Capitol in January 2021 promoted and sanctioned by Trump are anything to go by, the violent and criminal. Sadly, however, it is the innocent, our children and grandchildren that will ultimately suffer in the fall out from the rise of these demagogues and in the repercussions that will follow these tragic travesties of democracy. I am now 80 years old and a member of the generation that has allowed this to happen on our watch - our children and grandchildren will not view us kindly for the world we are leaving them. They will not be wrong.
The letter was written under the most trying of circumstances and times. It is a letter written by Jacqueline Kennedy the wife of the assassinated President John Kennedy just a week after her husband’s death in Dallas. It was written on one of the last nights that she spent in the White House and ending her role as America’s First Lady after the new President, Lyndon Johnson had been sworn in aboard Air Force 1 on the flight back to Washington from Dallas whilst the newly widowed Jacqueline Kennedy stood looking on in her blood spattered pink Chanel suit. For my generation those events were not simply iconic they were (and still are) deeply moving and influential upon our lives and beliefs. JFK’s charisma and ability to communicate with everyone – no matter age, sex, creed, nation, politics – was the age of a new dawn. His White House became known as Camelot – reminding us of the mythical and court of King Arthur, a place of honour and virtue; Kennedy's White House, like the mythical Camelot, was a place, by repute, of culture, good taste, kindness and above all wisdom. Kennedy, with his movie-star looks, his culture – he was said to read André Malraux while putting on his tie in the morning – his eloquence, his intelligence and wit epitomised this and swept us along. Of course, in reality it may not have been any of those things but such was Kennedy’s charisma and ability to communicate with everyman that we believed; it gave us hope and allowed us to imagine better things and a better world. And in those long gone days we needed hope. In 1961 the Berlin Wall had been built, the Cold War was at its height. On the other side of the world the Vietnam War was exploding and dragging humanity towards the nuclear abyss, and in October 1962 we had all stood on the very edge of nuclear Armageddon as the Cuban Missile Crisis brought terror to us all. I can remember going to bed each night of the two weeks when that Crisis filled our TV’s, radios and newspapers and like millions of others wondering if I would wake in the morning or if my home would just be a nuclear wasteland. Throughout these crises JFK seemed to be the person to whom we clung as the USA and the Soviet Union faced each other, each with its finger on the nuclear button.
The letter is written by Mrs Kennedy to Nikita Khrushchev, President of the Soviet Union – the man who had faced her husband John Kennedy from the opposite side of the world throughout these existential events and terrifying times. It is supremely elegant and touching both in its literary simplicity and political/presidential grandeur. It is a letter full of grace to both uplift and humble and, if you are of my generation and lived through the nightmare of November 22nd 1963, and the years leading up to it, to bring tears to one’s eyes. It is a deeply personal letter but one which the First Lady knew might have international repercussions. Sadly, however, it is a letter that the current incumbents of the White House or Nigel Farage and his acolytes could not begin to write or even understand for what is implicit in the letter are the very qualities that they refute and despise – empathy, kindness, humanity, responsibility. Nor could the malfeasant, feeble minded and feckless Republican voters who voted for Trump or the ragbag tribe of easily deceived, wilfully ignorant malcontents who supported Farage’s Reform Party in England comprehend or relate to the sentiments in the letter. One only needs to read their foul mouthed, illogical, comments on social media or in the press or hear them on TV to know that their only interest is a selfish concern for themselves; wisdom is an unknown trait and wider humanity is dead to them.
If intolerant ideologies are allowed unchecked expression, they exploit a society’s values and erode or destroy tolerance itself through authoritarian or oppressive practices. We have seen this in the USA in recent months, at the Washington Capitol in January 2021, and now with the election of Reform Party in the UK we are seeing it here too. Extreme, intolerant views are gaining an ever-increasing foothold because we “tolerate” those who hold them. We have been warned, but have not taken heed and that has allowed Trump, Farage and the rest to ignore the wisdom and advice of Atticus Finch and so thrive.
28 April, 2025
Trump: A Gross, Uncouth Man of Little Learning With Much to be Modest About: Or, An Afternoon at the Opera!
A Sunday afternoon at the opera! Another visit to the Broadway Cinema here in Nottingham to see a live stream from the New York Met. This time it was The Marriage of Figaro - a work we have seen so many times that I swear we could act as stand-ins should any of the stars be indisposed! But of course, as with all Mozart, no matter how many times one hears a work or sees an opera each one is different - there are new themes to explore, new "takes" on characters, new interpretations of music and narrative to enjoy - and this performance from the Met was no different; original, inspiring, innovative, exquisite, enriching and hugely enjoyable. And when the final curtain came we, like the rest of the audience, both applauded and sat back breathless and emotionally drained.
10 April, 2025
"Kissing My Ass": Tells Us All We Need To Know About Trump & His Supporters
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Is this "class"? Is it "breeding"? How come King Charles speaks Italian to his hosts but the high spot of Trump's stumbling parody of the English language is "Kissing my ass". No, it's neither class or breeding. It's simple respect for the feelings and intellect of one's audience, and respect for other people. At the moment, and sadly, the whole world is Donald Trump's audience and he chooses to address it with expletives and mind numbingly poor use of the English language - the language that Trump recently proclaimed was the national language of America. It's a shame, therefore, that Trump himself (and many of his followers and supporters) are quite incapable of speaking, spelling or writing any kind of acceptable approximation of English. Clearly Trump et al have not come across the concept of irony - and if they have they clearly didn't understand it!
That, however, is a side issue. The central point and give away is that his poor use of language betrays him; it shows him to not only have a limited language facility but also, to put it politely, to be significantly and worryingly intellectually challenged - a frightening diagnosis given the power that this man holds and can wield. It is through language that we think and understand and hIs paucity of linguistic skills shows him to be a man of poor thought and even less understanding - but we all knew that didn't we!
Sadly, half of the electorate of America voted for him and seem not to be bothered by these failings - which says much about them too: little class, low breeding, a total lack of respect for those he and they communicate with, functionally illiterate and of severely limited intellectual powers. That seems to sum up the man and his followers.
King Charles on the other hand..........